Witch of the Red Thorn by Maria DeVivo

Author:Maria DeVivo [DeVivo, Maria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal, Horror
ISBN: 9781644505601
Publisher: 4 Horsemen Publications, Inc.
Published: 2022-05-16T18:12:52+00:00

I woke up to the howling of the storm outside the cabin. The tempest Galen had spoken of earlier was in full swing with the wind thrashing against the outer walls and the relentless rain pounding down on the roof. The sounds echoed in the dark room, and I rose from the bed, wrapped the quilt about my shoulders, and walked to the window to observe the spectacular show. Through the blasts of near horizontal rain, the night sky dazzled with a thousand stars and the sliver of silver as the moon waxed slightly with its thin smile. I peered over my shoulder at Galen on the bed. He had removed his clothing before falling asleep earlier, and I watched as the dark outline of his chest rose and fell with each heavy breath of slumber. A disappointed feeling darkened my heart. My imaginings had never portrayed to me a disconnected Galen, and even though he had fulfilled my most secret of hidden and carnal dreams, I felt he was miles away from me. Had I not been good enough? Had I displeased him? Did he not feel pleasure from our union? Did he regret the act?

I walked back to the bed, and as I did, my foot kicked something in the darkness. I bent down to see what it was, and to no surprise, it was the Blodheksa book lying next to the satchel Galen had brought in with him earlier. I took the book into my hands and cradled it close to my bare chest. Immediately, I heard the voice, the song. It soothed me. Lulled me. Renewed my spirit with courage and purpose. I asked the book, and it replied—I was not a failure to my lover, and I was being silly and immature to think such things. I placed Blodheksa on the nightstand and opened Galen’s pack. Therein were curious things: black candles, rocks and shells from the shore, and a knife—to the average eye, these things wouldn’t make sense to be sharing the same space, but to me, on instinct, I knew just what to do.

I lit the room up with the candles. Strategically placed them in each corner to create a golden glow throughout. Galen’s body on the bed came into view, and I stood over him, knife in one hand, and with my other, I ran my fingers up and down his barrel chest. His manhood sprang at attention at my touch, yet he still slept—dreamily breathing in some far-off fantasy world. However, I was determined to deal not in fantasies. With the knife, I sliced across his arm in the crook of his elbow—the natural line that separates forearm from upper arm bloomed with tiny blood bubbles. His eyes shot open from the fire of the sting, and immediately, I knelt beside him and took his arm in my mouth, sucking at the wound. I let the metallic flavor dance on my tongue before I swallowed it down.

My nether region throbbed furiously,

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